How long has it been since I first heard the Gauldur legend? Eighty years? A hundred? I can think of nothing else now. My goal is at hand.
After years of searching, I finally traced the Ivory Claw to a collector in Bravil. His death was necessary. But I have it. At last, I have it.
22nd of Morning Star, 4E 201
Three days of nonstop riding. I reached Anvil ahead of my pursuers, and took passage on the Icerunner, bound for Solitude once more.
29th of Morning Star, 4E 201
The other passengers are becoming suspicious. Returning from dinner, I caught one brute rooting around in my quarters. He almost found the claw. Had the captain not intervened, I would have flayed him alive.
I hoped to spend the voyage sequestered in my room, reviewing my notes and preparing spells, but I need to deflect some attention from myself. I'll have to mingle, pretend to be just another petty mage. For now.
2nd of Sun's Dawn, 4E 201
The brute claims to be an adventurer, off to seek his fortune in the ruins of Skyrim with his companions. Perhaps I can turn this to my advantage, use them as fodder for the traps and Draugr within the tombs. I can see the greed in his eyes. Yes, that should work.
Three weeks to Solitude, the captain says. If I have to suffer these fools longer than that, I'll swim.
27th of Sun's Dawn, 4E 201
With the brute and his companions in tow, I led our band across the marsh to Folgunthur, where we made camp for the night. Little has changed since my first expedition ten years ago. But this time, I have the claw. And I will have the amulet.
I spent all night preparing a synopsis of my notes, in case some fragment of the tale or piece of ancient lore may be needed to bypass the wards within the tomb. Then I cast all my books and scrolls into the fire, and reduced my life's work to ashes. At long last, today is the day of reckoning. If I cannot have the amulet, no one will.